


Curiosity

by roraruu



Series: Daisy Chain [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Background Relationships, F/M, Healing, gossiping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 10:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17506724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roraruu/pseuds/roraruu
Summary: Python and Silque exchange idle gossip about their fellow fighters.(Takes place in chapter two of Bones of Rubber, Heart of Steel)





	Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of two pieces that go with Bones of Rubber, Heart of Steel. It was offered at the end of the pdf (and i’m Making a dumb decision posting it now but whatever). The other, scriptures and swords is still being written, so enjoy this in the meantime!  
> Enjoy! ❤︎

It was curiosity that brought them together as acquaintances, and drew them closer as friends.

She remembers seeing him on the field a few times; it was where they had first met. He was an archer, kept to the back lines where she roamed and healed. She found herself tending to his injuries with her staff and holy hands. She only used white magic on him a few times; mostly gashes and sprains and the like. She even made a herbal concoction when he came to her with a particularly bad headache. She asked where he’d gotten it, although she knew from first breath that it was the result of too much alcohol. Still, he smirked and said, “fighting a necrodragon... Impressed yet?”

She knew that he was someone that she wanted to know. He was crude, crass, unruly—everything she wasn’t. By all holy means, she should’ve walked away and kept distance from him. Yet, she found herself lingering in his presence. It seemed that the Earth Mother used this lethargic archer to pluck at her servant’s curiosity.

Once, he’d called her out for hanging around like a spider. He had been dozing by a campfire and she had taken some laundry to fold. Faye had been overloaded with it at the time, and Silque wanted to help her as much as she could.

“What are you still doing here?” He asked.

She kept her gaze from him, busying herself with a sheet. “My chores.” She said.

He scoffed, not even looking up. He stayed quiet, and she wasn’t sure if he enjoyed her coyness and company, or if it was a ploy to remove her.

She smoothed her hands over the sheet before adding it to the pile near her. The silence quickly became suffocating, the crackles and snaps of dying firewood being the only sound other than her heartbeat. Normally, she’d hum and sing in quiet, but her bravado dwindled in the presence of another. She picked up another sheet, remedying to end this insufferable silence.

“Did you hear about the new mage that’s joined us?” She asked quietly. 

Python’s eyes finally opened to their normal half-lidded gaze. It always seemed as though he’d just woken from a nap. His brow cocked, something she’d never seen before. Not even when she saw him converse with Forsyth.

“What about him?” He asks.

“He’s a horrible spell caster. His younger sister is apparently well-adept with black magic.” She’d said. He sat up leaning closer, intrigued by the gossip. Before she knew it, more and more words spilt from her lips hurriedly. When he leaned closer at her dying voice, and she smelt the stench of wine and firewood on his breath, she knew she had triggered his curiosity.

It became their ritual almost. Any time they were alone together—making meals, moving weapons, cleaning, when he was hurt—the gossip came out, blossoming like flowers in Flostym. And in truth, she loved it.

As a healer, she would pick up bits of gossip and juicy little nothings. Sometimes it was voluntarily: to calm her patients she’d ask about their families, loved ones, memories and the stories would spill hot and fast. Stories of loves gone awry, or lacking talent or a grave mistake spilt like wine from the cup. Other times it was involuntary, like after someone was coming to and mentioned another’s name or something revealing. Such little breathy words made her imagination run wild and her brain struggle to connect the beginning to the middle and the end. 

Her favourite was how quickly emotions changed; going from a smile to a frown at the sight of someone, eyes widening at the mention of a name, busy hands and tapping feet when another came close. His was sweet nothings and honeyed words that no one else was to hear. Something about listening to personal, illicit things made his eyes grow wide with wonder.

She found herself entranced by the Python who loved gossip. He would become giddy, leaning closer to her as they spoke in hushed whispers. He’d stare at her intently, like a student to their teacher, and his voice would fall silent, so silent that sometimes she thought he wasn’t breathing. In those quick clandestine moments, any nugget of information was gold: a blush from Mathilda at Clive’s hand, Clair’s sudden interest in Alm, Luthier and Delthea’s varying talents in black magic, Gods not even mentioning the woman Lukas courted before the war. His wagging tongue and her prying eyes found comfort in each other.

So when she saw Faye and Tobin leave the floors of the mansion, she knew something of interest was about to happen. She’d waited casually until she was sure that they were gone.

Curiosity had gotten the better of her yet again. She glanced around before leaving the mansion and sneaking down the hill. She could hear them from the top. She can practically see Cupid drawing his bow, taking his aim at the two villagers.

She thinks of something to say, something that will allow her to catch the moment. _Ask about Faye’s stitching? No...I could offer to help clean up though, but Tobin’s already there. Hm... Maybe ask about the shrine—_

Her thoughts are halted by a melodic laugh. It’s high and commands those around them. She hears Faye’s voice seconds later.

“Hm... Nicer.” She demands.

“Pretty please? Jeez, what do you want me to do? Beg?” Tobin speaks too loudly.

She slides up next to the barn door, her robes and headdress getting wet. The train of her skirt is getting muddy, but it’s worth it for even the slightest smidge of gossip. 

“Actually... Yeah, I do want you to beg.” Faye says. She peers in. Tobin’s locked in a stall, with Faye’s pegasus behind him. Faye stands on her tip-toes, a devious smile on her face as she crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for him to speak.

Silque covers her mouth, eyes widening and brow raising in surprise. She hadn’t suspected to find a _lovers’ rendezvous_ —just some tidbits and snippets of gossip, maybe even a flush of the cheek for her own pleasure.

“You’re just lucky we’re such good friends.” He says, clearing his throat. She watches as his hand moves through the grates of the stall door. He clumsily takes her hand and Silque feels vindicated. Suddenly, her muddy robes are nothing.

He speaks, holding her gaze tenderly, faces only inches apart. “Lady Faye, o devoted heart. Please, let me out so I may tell you how dear you are to me.”

There’s no heady sigh or swoon from Faye, just a demand for more. Silque moves too close, standing in the light of the barn. One of the horses notices her and lets out a nervous whinny. Her cover is blown.

She stands taller, acts as if she’s just walking down from the mansion. “Hello Faye, do you need a hand?” She feigns surprise when they turn around to look at her.

She turns on her heel and revels in the gossip she’ll have to share with Python. “M-My apologies, I see that you’re busy! I’ll go.”

“No it’s fine!” Faye calls, ripping her hand from his, there’s a bang and a wince. Like children caught, they pull away from each other quickly and fumble to straighten dress hems and fix hair.

“We weren’t going anything!” Tobin promises with a strained laugh. “Just joking around.”

The cleric awkwardly smiles as she steps back inside the barn. Faye unlocks the stall, quickly stepping away from him, giving a good innocent distance between the two. Their blushes are obvious, burning their faces, ears and hands. Silque notices Faye’s eyes on her robes.

“Sorry, we were just taking care of the mounts,” Faye says, her gaze flickering nervously to Silque’s.

“Y-Yeah,” Tobin adds. “I just locked myself inside with Faye’s pegasus by accident.”

Silque forces another smile. “I was just looking to have a word.” She says, deciding on the shrine as a cover. It’s good enough—the two of them are becoming experienced fighters and could benefit from the Mother’s guidance.

“There’s a shrine not far down Fear Mountain. I believe Sir Alm wants to visit it when we leave the mansion.” She clasps her hands together as if she’s about to praise the Earth Mother. “In my prayers, Mother Mila has spoke of great promise and power for those who train hard.”

Tobin smirks. “Ooh, maybe?” He says. “I could make Orson there my—“

“Not you,” Silque says, covering with a polite smile. Her gaze settles on Faye, who smirks haughtily. “I meant Faye.”

She covers her mouth with her hand, laughing into it as Tobin’s face falls. Silque continues, moving her staff to the inside of her elbow. ”I know that there’s great strength in line for pegasus knights. Lady Clair is already a falcon knight.” She says. “Perhaps it’s time you prayed to the Mother for guidance on the matter.”

“You should do it,” Tobin says, urging her on. His tone changes to gloating. “By the time you get your act together and change, I’ll already be a bow knight.”

“The Mother advises against boasting, Tobin.” Silque warns with a thin smile, fearing that the two will notice her focused intent. Faye laughs again, elbowing him in the ribs where his armour ends. The wind is knocked out of him and he shoots her a look.

They begin to bicker flirtatiously about manners and knighthoods. They move closer, smirks and playful tones filling the air. The healer breaks their conversation with a laugh. “You two have great chemistry,” she commends, noticing how Faye’s face flushes. She touches her shoulder. “It’s touching to see friends so close.”

She stands a little taller, only millimetres shorter than Faye. “But still, I’d advise you to think about asking the Mother for guidance to higher power.”

“Yeah Faye, think about it.” Tobin echoes.

“Thank you Silque.” Faye says as Tobin echoes her voice again. Silque watches as Faye flicks his ear, restarting the flirtation. Such close physical touch makes her giddy and her ears heat.

“You’re too rough for a lady.” He whines.

“But a gentleman doesn’t push a lady’s buttons.” Silque adds.

“Right!” Faye adds.

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever, I’m out. Gray wanted to explore the mansion. Find some cool stuff. Maybe even freak out Clair a little bit.”

“And you’re not inviting us?” Faye asks, hands on her hips. Silque demurely hides a smile behind a hand.

“You’ve said that you don’t like Gray. Sorry Silque, but I’m not sure about your stance on ghosts.” He says, walking towards the barn door. “And besides, I think Rosie there needs some tender loving care from her mistress.”

“Her name is Rosanne!” Faye exclaims as he begins to walk away, out into the rain.

“Right! Rosie for short!” He calls, adding a good-bye to the other horses too. He gives a wave before turning away and disappearing into the rain.

Silque glances outside making sure that Tobin is gone. She’s giddy, almost unable to contain herself after seeing such a display. Faye pays attention to her steed, patting her hands on the creature’s muzzle, not noticing when Silque takes a step closer to her.

“He seems to like you a lot.” Silque says excitedly, breaking the silence. Her gaze flickers back to the barn door to make sure he’s not lurking around. “How long have you known Tobin?”

“We’ve been friends all our lives.” Faye says.

Silque lets a mischievous smile cross her face, unable to contain her glee. “How sweet.” She says. Her words cause Faye to turn pink, catching Silque’s eye.

They have a short conversation on white magic and healing spells before walking back up to the mansion. The rain slows down but it’s still treacherous to slide and slip in the mud below their feet.

Faye excuses herself to go clean up, washing the mud off her uniform and change into something dry. Silque is more than happy to let her go. She roams the main halls, returning to the room they’ve converted into an infirmary.

“Where you been?” A voice barks.

She jumps, surprised by Python’s voice. She spins around, her robes catching the dust and grime. The mansion reminds her of the dilapidated shrines they cross through every so often. Except they feel beautiful and bright and kempt in comparison to the witch’s dreary mansion.

“I got wind of—“ she stops when she peers closer. Blood trails down his chin and her eyes widen. “What in Mila’s name happened to you? That can’t be from today’s battle!”

“Relax.” He says annoyedly as he shakes his head. “I smacked my face a while ago.”

It’s most likely a lie, but she knows not to push questions with him. He’ll leave otherwise and that’s the last thing she wants—especially since the gossip she has about Faye and Tobin threatens her to burst.

“Why didn’t you get a handkerchief or something?” She asks, walking towards him. She points him to a dusty old chair, motioning for him to sit down.

“I was busy looking for you.” He says. “You were probably sainting up this hellhole, weren’t you?”

She hears the seat groan as he sits down. “I was just down at the barn.”

“Why were you there? I don’t peg you as an animal lover.”

She throws him a look, dampening a rag with water and wringing it out with one swift movement. She steps towards him, leaning down and taking his chin in her right hand. She keeps her eyes to his lip, busted and bloodied from whatever he had been doing. They’re red and raw from the Rigelian cold. He stares intently at her, as he always does. It’s almost like he’s trying to commit her face to memory, studying it like she will be his final sight. She knows she’s been the last thing many have seen, and she hopes to Mila that it won’t be the same for him someday.

It’s quiet, and she focuses on the steady beats of her heart and Mila’s teachings. Part of her wants to tell him what she saw immediately, to bond with Python and feel vindicated by her foolishness. But another part wants her to take it slow, keep him nearby.

So she does. Her fingers lift his chin, his eyes staring at her. She brings the cloth to his bloodied chin, wiping away crimson with a ginger touch. She’s gentle and kind and soft, everything that he’s not.

She reaches for some ointment to clean the wound. “Can’t you use white magic?” He asks tiredly. _He’s probably wanting to get away to drink._ She thinks, knowing that it’s been awhile since they’ve seen a town with a tavern.

“I suppose I could, but this is a small injury.” She says.

“Ain’t that why you a healer? Besides, it’s rife with dust in here. You don’t want your best archer catching infection, huh?”

She suppresses a smirk. “I wouldn’t call you our best archer...”

“Wow.” He says with a whistle. “Harsh.”

She prepares her recovery spell, murmuring words as soothing magic traces his skin and her hand. His busted lip becomes nothing more than a memory, an afterthought. She can already feel his interest waning. She launches immediately into what she sees. “The Ram Villagers seem very close.”

“Yeah, so?” He says. He watches as one of her hands smoothes out the skirts of her muddy uniform. He catches on, following where she’s guiding to. A smarmy smirk comes across his face as she moves away from him with the rag.

“Especially Faye and Tobin.” She presses.

“The little knight, right?” He asks. “The one who’s got the hots for our gracious leader?”

“I think you mean had.” She says.

He sits straighter, eyes gleaming like he’s a cat who’s caught a poor little bird in his teeth. Gossip of unrequited love is like sweet, sweet wine to Python, but changed feelings and love affairs become harsh and delicious liquor. He becomes curious, like a young boy.

He stands, towering over her with a knowing smirk. “Come on and spill to old Python.” He pats her shoulder in a gentle-ish way.

She ignores how awful it would seem if they were found alone. Not to mention the earful they’d both get from Lukas and Forsyth. Although her worries are hypocritical, since she had just stepped in on the flirting villagers. But this was different. She was a dedicated servant of the Mother— _married_ to her religion before another—and he was a shady runaway who corrupted things with just a look.

Silque suppresses another smile, placing one hand over the other. She plays coy, collecting the bloody rag and throwing it into the pile of laundry to wash. He must’ve caught a good glance at her sodden skirt.

“Were they necking down in the rain?” He asks, nudging her shoulder. “Putting the bump in bumpkin?

“I wouldn’t have watched such salacious things!” She exclaims, a blush marks her face like ink to parchment. “Although I can’t say the same for you.”

“Then tell me what you saw! We both know you’re about to burst.” He protests. His voice is almost begging.

She hates that she’s so easy to read. She turns back to him, her delicate hands lacing together. She looks up, catching his eyes for a moment. She’s never been able to focus on others and look them in the eyes, and it’s especially hard since he insists on being so close to her. She focuses on where his lip had split, and it comes out.

“They were flirting roughly.”

“Like badly or...” he says, raising a brow and dropping his voice. “R _oughly?_ ”

She flushes and Python lets out a harsh laugh. “No way.” He says, leaning close again. “Gods, like what? They’re a bunch of kids, right?”

She stay silent, letting him ruminate in thoughts of what they could’ve been doing. “You didn’t walk in on them—“

She cuts him off before he can utter another verb. “Heavens no!”

“So what? Necking, anything interesting?” He says.

“They were flirting.”

“Like how? Details, give me some!”

“Faye had him locked up in a stall.”

“I knew there was a masochistic feel about her.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest. She begins to clean up the infirmary, making sure that there’s nothing out of place by the time they leave tomorrow. It helps to keep her blush at bay. “So what else happened? That can’t be it.”

“It was sweet... Did you know they’ve been friends since childhood?” She asks.

“Bo-ring.” He says. “No passion or fire.”

“I disagree, not every romance needs passion in your sense of the word,” Silque says. She catches his gaze on her skirts. “It’s a matter of chemistry, and Mila blessed them with it.”

“Mila didn’t bless them with nothing but fumbling hands and loud voices.” He says. “You sure they didn’t meet in the middle or anything?”

Silque rests her hands on her hips. “I’m certain. You just wish you had’ve been there.”

“Yeah, because I wouldn’t have been caught.” He says, her brow furrowing.

“How are you sure of that?”

“You just told me you were.” He smirks.

She frowns, turning to walk out into the hallway. He follows after her. “Anything else you saw?” he says. “Blushing cheeks? Glimmering eyes? Come on.”

“I don’t know why you’d want to know, especially after you’re dismissing my accounts.”

Tobin passes by them with Gray and Clair. The two fall silent as they walk past, sharing an intense gaze with the floor. The second they pass, Python smirks. “I thought I saw a mark on his neck.” He murmurs to her.

“P-Probably a battle wound.” Silque says.

“No blood, just pink.” He says with a smirk.

“Then why don’t you go and ask. I’m sure you’d have more experience than I in the matter.”

“Just like you have more experience on your knees than your feet.”

She gasps at the remark as he twirls on his foot. “Would you care to go check then?” She asks, crossing her arms.

Python smirks, a devious little thing. He turns away on his heel. “ _OI!_ TOBIN! Come over here!”

Silque hides a smirk behind her hand. She finds her steps faltering as she pretends to retrieve something from the infirmary. Her eyes catch Python’s, whose flickers back to the mark on the villager’s neck. She finds herself almost craning to sneak a look. It seems curiosity refuses to let either of them go.


End file.
